Sick Day
by Yesm777
Summary: Sometimes, even FBI consultants need a sick day. However, it might not just be a stomachache, and Brian realizes a little too late. One shot. Sick!Brian.


_Author's Note: I'm very intrigued by the whole concept of Limitless. I loved the movie, and I'm really enjoying the show with Jake McDorman. I figured, maybe I'll try my hand a fic, despite the show being so new…So, I hope you enjoy it! Please review, if you've got a moment._

 **Sick Day**

Brian awoke with a groan, his hand rubbing absently at his stomach. A dull pain swirled in his gut, cruel and unrelenting in the early morning. How strange. Before he'd fallen asleep, it was merely a nuisance, easily brushed off as his mind focused on other things. Although, these days, it wasn't uncommon for his piling secrets to commandeer his thoughts.

Releasing a long sigh, he sat up, wincing at the flaring pain in his belly. Maybe he should lie down again. Although, moving at all seemed like such a silly idea.

He heard a familiar click in the distance, rubbing a hand wearily over his face. Decent sleep seemed like a distant dream these days.

"Wow, you're actually awake," Mike huffed, looking unimpressed. Honestly, Brian had no idea what the man's real name was, but Mike didn't need to know that.

"Surprise!" Brian replied weakly, his voice raspy from the first hours of the morning. He winced, hand fluttering automatically to his stomach. "You know, Mike…I don't feel awesome today. Any chance I can take a rain check on the whole…FBI…work…thing?" He coughed a little, grimacing at the bolt of pain from his abdomen.

Mike leveled a stern look at him, clearly unconvinced.

"I'm not making this up, Mike," Brian sighed, frowning a little. "My stomach's really bothering me."

Mike let a huff out of his nose, his expression turning to one of irritation. Without another word, he fished his phone out of his pocket, glancing up at Brian as he pressed a few numbers and pressed it against his ear.

Brian slowly rolled back onto the couch, gently resting his head on the pillow. His eyes slipped shut tiredly, though unable to sleep.

"Agent Harris," Mike addressed, a long breath slowly slithering out of his mouth. Brian's ears perked up, curious to know how the conversation would go. "He says he doesn't feel well. Wants to know if he could…take a day."

Brian could hear a soft hum on the other end, Rebecca's voice softly floating through the small speaker. He cracked his eyes open, surprised to see Mike's phone near his face.

"She wants to talk to you," Mike reported irritably, scowling a little. Brian swallowed a sigh, gingerly taking the phone in his own fingers as he held it to his ear.

"Hey, pal. Good morning," he greeted enthusiastically, smiling a little. It was more to bother Mike than anyone else. Sometimes, Brian just liked to a get a rise out of the guy.

 _"You're sick? Are you telling the truth?"_ Rebecca asked impatiently, a touch of concern hidden in her voice. Most wouldn't have heard it, but he did.

"Why would I lie about that?" Brian muttered. "You know I wouldn't duck out of this job on purpose. It's too exciting."

There was a long pause on the other end, soothed by the realization of Brian's truthful confession. _"Okay, so then what's the matter?"_

"Uh…my stomach kind of hurts. Probably an ulcer," Brian grumbled, his free hand settling itself quietly on the offending gut.

 _"You? An ulcer?"_ Rebecca scoffed. _"I highly doubt it, considering your…attitude on life. Unless you eat lemons or something for every meal."_

With how things had been going lately…Brian wouldn't really be surprised if it actually was an ulcer. Of course, Rebecca barely knew the half of it. She wouldn't be safe if she did.

"Yeah, well, it hurts and I don't exactly feel like fighting bad guys today," he croaked, throwing his free arm over his eyes. Hell, was the pain getting worse? Sure felt like it.

 _"Well, doesn't look like we have a lot of excitement today anyway. Get some rest and I'll be by later,"_ Rebecca sighed, papers rustling in the background. Brian swallowed a groan, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks," he muttered, wordlessly handing the phone back to Mike. Mike shot him a puzzled look, his eyes carefully combing over the consultant's appearance.

Brian didn't hear much of the conversation between Mike and Rebecca. Instead, he focused on breathing evenly, without irritating his abdominal pain too much. He didn't even realize Mike was leaving until the door clicked shut behind him.

Brian let out a long, pained moan, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. No matter how gently he moved, it seemed to flare up the pain even more, searing in his belly. Funny how it seemed to be moving. Not moving necessarily, but…becoming more…defined.

He felt his eyes grow heavier, a strange fog of weariness fluttering over him. He welcomed the warm tug of slumber, drifting off into fitful dreams.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Brian awoke with a start, the pain in his abdomen spiking hotly. He panted through the pain, an uncomfortable swirl churning in his gut. He could feel his nausea rising, becoming almost unbearable. With a new sense of urgency, he pushed himself off the couch, and stood on shaky legs.

He stumbled to the bathroom as quickly as he could, nearly tripping over himself in the process. By the time his legs had turned to wet noodles, he collapsed next to the toilet, promptly vomiting into the porcelain bowl. His throat burned as his stomach expelled everything it had. There wasn't much, making it burn that much more.

When he was sure there was nothing left, he rested his cheek against the bowl, flushing loosely with one hand. The bathroom was dark, the light switch forgotten amid his nausea. His mind spun with an onslaught of dizziness, welcoming a dose of lightheaded weakness. He could feel himself slip away from the toilet, crumpling to the floor in an aching heap. Brian's stomach pain flared, clawing a weak cry from his lungs as he curled further into himself.

It definitely hurt more than before. Hell, he should probably be on his way to the ER.

If only he hadn't left his phone behind.

He groaned as he pictured the small device, lying alone on the side table by the couch. In too much pain to even get off the floor, Brian could only stare at the wall, praying for some kind of mercy.

Any kind of mercy.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Rebecca huffed as she made her way down the hall. She wasn't really sure why she'd promised to see Brian later. It was probably her strange sense of loyalty. Honestly, Brian probably wouldn't hold her to it anyway. Most likely, the guy wouldn't care whether she visited or not.

She dug her fingers into her pocket, fishing out the extra key to Brian's apartment. She'd gotten it from one of his handlers just in case, both of whom seemed quite pleased by Brian's sick day. One day off from the energetic man-child.

It was a good thing he didn't have any NZT today. He probably wouldn't have rested properly with all that brain activity.

With a sigh, she rapped on the door, glancing down the hallway. She heard nothing. No footsteps, no shuffling, nothing. Huffing, she tried again, shoving her thumbs into her belt loops as she waited. He was probably sleeping.

Rebecca casually slipped the key into the lock, twisting it with one quick, fluid motion. She pushed her way into the apartment, closing the door behind her as she quickly swept her eyes over the apartment. No Brian.

"Brian?" she called, beginning to wonder if he faked his illness. She took a few steps inside, peering into the kitchen for a moment. "Brian?"

A faint noise drifted from his bathroom, unrecognizable and small. Frowning a little, she wandered towards the sound, hand hovering over her gun. Realizing what she was doing, she immediately dropped her hand to her side, berating herself for unnecessary paranoia.

She was surprised to find the bathroom door open, offering an entrance to the shadowed, black innards. Reaching an arm around the edge of the doorway, she flicked the light on, her breath catching in her throat at the body on the floor.

Brian was curled up on the ground, nestled between the wall and the toilet. Sweat glimmered on his skin, soaking into his hair as his expression screwed up in pain. His arms were wrapped tightly around his midsection, the rest of his body curving inward.

Rebecca dropped to her knees in an instant, pressing one hand against his cheek as the other found his forehead.

"Hell, Brian. Why didn't you tell me you were this sick?" Rebecca huffed gruffly, crinkling her nose when she smelled the lingering scent of sick.

"It…It got worse," he replied, squeezing words past his tight throat. It hurt enough that he sometimes forgot to breathe.

Her eyes wandered to his arms around his stomach, her brow furrowing as certain suspicions drifted into her thoughts. "What's wrong, Brian? What hurts?"

He pried his eyes open, dim blue frantic as he looked up at her. "My side," he huffed shakily.

Without a second thought, she pulled out her phone.

"We have to get you to a hospital," she mumbled hurriedly, dialing swiftly and pressing the phone against her ear. "Why didn't you call someone?" She glanced worriedly at his stomach, praying she wasn't already too late.

"I…I left my phone," he breathed out erratically, eyes flicking to the doorway. Rebecca caught his meaning, throwing a peek over her shoulder towards the living room. She snapped her gaze back to Brian, growing increasingly nervous at the foggy look in his eyes.

A stranger's voice answered her call on the other end, quick and professional. She didn't hesitate to reply.

"Yes, I have someone here with appendicitis."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Brian wasn't exactly sure what had awoken him. One second, his world was lost in a warm blanket of black, and the next he was slowly drifting into light and sound. A steady beeping floated from his left as a heavy sigh billowed from his right.

Curious, he peeled his eyes open, squinting against the white light of the room. He felt heavy and weary, his limbs like lead against the softness beneath him.

"Brian?"

Blinking, he turned his head a little, surprised to see Rebecca staring at him over a magazine. She dropped the magazine to her lap, steady eyes carefully appraising him.

"How do you feel?"

He wasn't quite sure how to answer, still attempting to fill the holes in his memory. Brian shifted a little, wincing when he felt a tug on the right side of his abdomen. He paused, his brain quickly supplying what he'd missed.

Right, appendicitis.

Rebecca let out a sigh. "You were lucky they caught it in time," she mumbled, pretending to read her magazine with an air of disinterest. "Who knows what would have happened if I hadn't stopped by?"

Honestly, she'd thought about it more than she should have. She could already imagine Brian's handlers finding him dead the next morning, still curled up on that bathroom floor. He would've died alone. Suffering.

She didn't know him well. Truthfully, she'd never intended to get to know him. He was a consultant. A consultant that had broken into her home prior to his work with the FBI. She was fully prepared to keep her distance.

But something about Brian got under people's skin. It wasn't the NZT. NZT didn't create a personality out of nothing. No, it was something about Brian, with or without the drug. He was bright and energetic, his emotions clear on his face. He valued family, and was loyal to a near fault.

So, maybe she didn't really know the guy, but he'd somehow grown on her. Like an accidental friendship, sneaking up without her knowing.

And she didn't like the thought of him dying alone. It wasn't fit for Brian.

"Thanks," he croaked, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. "You know, for getting me help."

She pursed her lips in mild embarrassment, keeping her eyes glued to the magazine. "It's my job. I help people."

"Well, you really didn't have to come check up on me. I know you're busy," he mumbled, smirking a little. "But I'm still glad you did."

She looked up at him, attempting to keep a straight face as he offered her a feeble grin. Her expression wavered, finally giving in to a smile.

"Well, next time, keep your phone on you," she replied, dropping her eyes back to the magazine. "Or else we might have to talk about having a permanent detail."

Brian looked stricken by the idea. "You wouldn't."

She raised her eyebrows, throwing him a mischievous look. "I might." She reached for a cup on the side table, offering it to Brian with a fake, sweet smile. "Ice chip?"

Brian glowered at her playfully, settling into his bedding with a touch of rebellion. Rebecca grinned, setting the cup back on the table. So, maybe they could be friends.

All past break-ins aside.


End file.
